Signs
by Trinityangel
Summary: Post Burn Out 7x06. Sometimes the silence isn't so bad. GSR


Signs  
By: Trinity Angel  
Rating: G

Brass had just lifted his hand to knock at the door when the sound of heels clicking through the empty hallway echoed through his ears. His hand dropped back to his side and he couldn't help the eyebrow that hoisted itself a bit higher than its mate on his forehead.

"You know, I kind of want my office back." At the expectant stare of the lanky brunette, he felt, oddly enough, that an explanation was due.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" Her abrupt statement had caught him off guard. He was expecting a round of questions fired faster then he could ever handle his automatic piece, instead, what he got was…a command? A slight frown creased his forehead.

"Do that. What you were just about to do."

"Sara, what are you getting at? What was I about to do? Get my office back?" Brass' frown deepened, it's edges tinged with what could only be perplexity. Frustration slowly seeped to his surface as Sara Sidle seemed to casually ignore his question, instead bending over and fiddling with her boot. "Sara do _what?_"

Sara lifted her head and gave it a toss, sending her layered brown hair flying from her face, clearing her vision of the man, take that back, angry man in front of her.

"Knock."

"Don't knock?" Brass pushed himself away from where he was leaning against _his _door frame and let his hands fall back to his sides, mouth slightly agape at her words. "Don't knock. Alright, should I gather a marching band then?" It had been a long shift. A long day and right now, all he really wanted to do was go into his office, relax, have a quick cup of joe, organize the files needed to close this case and go home. Period. Only problem was, he couldn't get into his office. Sympathy aside, if Gil wanted to nap, let him do it in his own office.

Sara stepped out of her shoes, her stocking clad feet instantly cooled by the polished floors.

"No." Tipping her head, she smiled a smile that could only be considered '_that smile' _and pushed down slowly on the glass door's handle. Pushing the door slowly, she left just enough room for her slender body to squeeze through, an action that she hoped didn't let too much light in.

Grissom knew she was there. Initially he didn't of course; the monstrous sound of rattling of the blinds combined with the blinding light that swept in being just enough to overwhelm all other sensations. It has just reached unbearable when suddenly, it stopped. Mercifully, it all stopped and the wave of nausea that had just reached the middle of his esophagus returned from whence it came. It was then that he noticed her. Eyes still closed he could see the outline of her face, clearing away all the shards of glass that felt as though they had settled on the inner layers of his eyelids. As he inhaled again, her face grew clearer, her smile, her eyes, all penciled in by a single scent of coconut and mango. She always smelled so tropical, so sweet…but had it always been so nauseating? Suddenly he was furious, furious with this migraine and how it was throwing him so off that even the aroma of his girlfriend, which every single second of every single day in his life had been nothing but comforting.

He grimaced.

The skin just above his nose wrinkled and resisted the urge to reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose in response. It remained drawn until with the greatest of care, a cool surface settled over his brow, offering what felt like the first sip of water after wandering through the Nevada desert for days. Slowly, his eyes parted, and it took him a moment to find his bearings. Blinking rapidly until the dizziness abated, it too Grissom another moment to realize that the cool surface on his forehead was nothing more than her hand.

The corners of his lips twitched upwards, and hers curled in response. They both, however remained that way, neither moving with the command that followed the reverberations of the vocal chords.

And all was blessedly still. With her face to focus on, the world had stopped spinning and while her scent was still lingering in his nose, he merely parted his lips, breathing softly through his mouth. If that was what it too, so be it.

Slowly, Sara's free hand lifted just above the side of the couch where she was crouched, and in a slow bending of her fingers, she offered a greeting. Grissom's lips twitched again, his eyes sending more of a response than was needed. With slow, fumbling motions, Sara's hands asked the obvious question,

'_head hurt?'_

Had he the energy, Grissom would have smiled, and lifted his hand to gently correct her finger position. Instead, he settled for closing his eyes.

Sara knew she could have just grabbed a pen from Brass's desk and wrote out her words, but this, this was more personal. A bit of comfort offered from her stepping out of her world and into his. When he opened his eyes again, she continued, a soft, sympathetic smile playing of the surface of her lips.

'_m_-_e-d-i-c-a-t-i-o-n-?' _Slowly, she spelled out the word, both because she didn't know the sign for it and because she was hoping that he'd had something here to take. At his barely perceptible nod, Sara continued.

'_you rest. i see you later at home….?' _

The question was an after thought. She should have known the answer. When Gil had headaches, she was still a welcomed guest,but when he had migraines she was to not call, not come over and was to wait for the all clear signal.

'_mine.' _

Deep chocolate orbs were suddenly depthless, as she stared at first his hand now resting comfortably against his chest, then at his closed eyes. Did she see that right? Now Sara was far from anything resembling fluent in ASL, but she did know that the sign for 'mine' was nothing even remotely similar to 'no'.

Stomach knotted and heart fluttering, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his hair line. Good things did come to those who wait…

Grissom didn't know why he'd said that. If this didn't clear up, he knew he had no patience and God only knew what his temperament would be like. It was stupid and he wanted to take it back, but his fingers just wouldn't move. Humans really were a creature of comfort.

At the whispering of fabric, strained azure eyes gaze up into the waiting face of a lover. He just couldn't tell her no. Besides, he reasoned, she was going to have to deal with it eventually. She and his migraines were going to have to cohabitate sooner or later. Why not sooner…

Her lips parted and he almost winced in preparation, but caught himself as he watched her lips soundlessly form three words.

'_I love you.'_

Sara smiled as he closed his eyes again, raising two fingers from his chest.

'_Too.'_

Turning away she moved toward Brass' desk a quietly as possible. Gathering the files there she started to move away, but turned back, picking up a discarded pen. Scribbling onto one pale yellow post-it note, Sara pulled it free, then wrote another. At the end of the second one she paused. 'Love Sara' seemed too much, too dry, too flat compared to their brief interlude. Not to mention, too obvious to any intruding onlooker. Settling for a simple 'S', Sara set the pen down and armed with two sticky notes and an armful of brown folders, she left.

After sticking the first note to the inside of the door, which merely read,

'_You shouldn't drive. Call. -S'_

Sara pulled the door shut as quietly as possible almost running into a still waiting Brass.

With a sigh, the older man looked down. His sympathy for his friend had gotten the best of him in the moments he'd been in the hall. It'd hit him as he stood there waiting, the migraines that in his own fatigue he'd forgotten about.

"He alright?"

"Yeah."

Sara looked down, sliding her feet back into her shoes, hoping, praying that he wouldn't ask for any kind of explanation as to why she'd waltzed right in there without a moment's hesitation.

Mercifully, she was spared.

"Any hope for my office?"

"Nope." Pressing the folders to his chest, one again, '_that smile'_ curled across her face. Slipping her shoes on, Sara spared one last moment to stick the final note on the outside of the door, that simply read,

'_DO NOT DISTURB'_

"But I hear the chairs in the break room are pretty comfy." Sliding her hands into her back pockets, Sara offered one final glimpse of '_that smile' _and sauntered off.


End file.
